


For the Soul to Remember

by TentacleBubbles



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Actually Eating Apple Pie, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Apple Pie, Extreme Soulmate AU, Gratitious mention of Apple Pie, M/M, Magical Realism, Oikawa's there but he's not named, Soul Thief, Souls, Videogames, Windows - Freeform, Windows to the Soul AU, locks, technically, there's also a bunch of extras lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TentacleBubbles/pseuds/TentacleBubbles
Summary: This is a world where people had windows to their souls. Kuroo Tetsurou is a soul thief, an expert in sneaking away souls to sell in the weekend market. But it’s getting more and more difficult to steal souls, and there came a time when even experts messed up. An exchanging of souls is a thing of the past, mysterious and taboo. And yet, it had been so easy to do by accident.ORAn attempt at Magical Realism. People have a literal window on their chest that can be opened and it leads to their souls. Kuroo is a soul thief who fucked up and accidentally exchanged souls with a stranger. Now he has to find that stranger again to get his own soul back, while dealing with the repercussions of having someone else’s soul inside of him.





	For the Soul to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> One day an author said 'i dont know how the f to write these two characters so I'll switch up their personalities a little and call it plot'
> 
> Also note: This world is mainly set in modern-like times, though I imagine the aesthetic to be a mix of steampunk and modern styles.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labor

Souls are harder to steal these days. People aren’t as open as they used to. People developed locks and they became popular, and then commonplace. Kuroo himself kept a small keypad on his window, to be opened only by the short code he’s known by heart. Heart or soul, what a tricky concept.

“Come on now, you can trust me,” Kuroo grinned, playful and sneaky-like.

His target, a young lady who wore adornments on her window as if showing off a prized jewel, flushed behind her mask, smile an attempt at being coy. She touched one of the adornments, absentmindedly. Kuroo pretended not to notice.

“Would you like to dance, then?” he asked instead, tilting his head towards the middle of the ballroom. Other masked men and women danced to the tinkling music, light and flitting as a fairy’s taunt.

She accepted.

Souls were getting harder to steal, and thus their monetary worth rising. Who cared about the morality of it? Some people would pay to have an extra soul, others to replace lost or broken ones. Yet they sold more popularly as jewellery, for encased in glass they shone more beautifully than any crystal or pearl. People pretended not to know when a necklace or a pair of earrings sparkled even in complete darkness, but they coveted nonetheless. Souls were valuable.

Kuroo slipped a hand down her waist, the other up at the back of her neck so he could dip her, grinning impishly at her pleased little ‘oh!’ When he pulled them both back upright he immediately led her to a spin. The lady’s vision blurred, dancers and laughter and the tinkling fairy music a sea all around her. A pause, and she’s in his arms, warm and secure. He led her to a spin once more, but once the sea of sensations stopped, the lady found herself alone, window hanging open. She closed it immediately, sharp _clicks_ from her lock and adornments drowned out by the people still laughing, the music still playing, the party still going. She wrapped her arms over her window, around herself.

Suddenly she was just a tiny bit cold.

\---

Kuroo tossed the black mask into a trash can as he passed by it, whistling a tune imitating that of a tinkling fairy music. He’d shed his ‘borrowed’ suit jacket earlier, exchanging it for a sleek black coat he’d snatched from the coatroom. Inside his pants pocket was this week’s haul, three souls in total.

The villa from whence he came was a mere backdrop now, Kuroo’s pace quick and light. His shoes _click click_ clicked on the sidewalk, joining in with the clicks of other shoes from the other people still out and about. It was still pretty early. Even though the sun had set there were still crowds gathered in squares and shopping districts. Usually Kuroo would retire for the night, maybe pass by one of the stores to buy himself dinner.

But he only had three souls in total and it was already Thursday. The Weekend Market opened on Friday mornings and closed on Sunday nights, and usually Kuroo had about ten souls ready to be sold by then. But week after week that number dwindled. His ‘patrons’ were getting disappointed. Even when he raised the prices he was earning less.

Kuroo turned left, towards one of the more popular shopping districts in the area. He didn’t have to walk far.

The streets were awash with light, and most if not all of the shops were still open. There were couples, families and friends, people who just wanted to take a walk or buy something. It was still fairly crowded, and Kuroo suppressed a relieved grin. He can still get some souls tonight.

The tall, dark haired thief walked leisurely amongst the crowds, singling out unsuspecting strangers he can snatch from easily. He spots a boy exiting an arcade, paying more attention to his phone than most of his surroundings. His hair went down to his chin, blond halfway down and black up at the roots. As Kuroo made his way closer he realized the boy wasn’t a boy at all. He seemed to be around the same age as Kuroo, if he had to guess. His large hoodie made him look smaller than he already was, that’s all. Kuroo was walking only a few feet behind him and he still hadn’t looked up from his phone.

Kuroo didn’t like doing things without planning. He swore he was past those days, when his methods amounted to nothing more than pickpocketing. He liked planning ahead, even if that meant only twenty minutes prior. He circled his target slowly, staying just outside the edge of what he guessed to be the man’s line of sight.

Like anyone else, the man’s window was on his chest, right where the heart was anatomically supposed to be. The window itself was the standard square glass pane, framed in gold and about the size of a notebook. His lock resembled that of a small calculator, and Kuroo guessed his password to be some sort of equation. It would be hard to get it open. But he’s opened more complicated locks before, he had confidence this one would be no different.

Kuroo inched just a little closer than he intended.

The man looked up from his phone, right in Kuroo’s direction and the thief froze in place. He could’ve sworn those golden catlike eyes saw through his very soul.

But the man wasn’t even looking at him. He was looking at the sign behind Kuroo, announcing a sale on instant cup noodles. It was a large cardboard sign, propped up against the glass windows of the convenience store Kuroo had been walking in front of. Immediately Kuroo ducked inside, hoping the man hadn’t noticed him staring.

He was shaken, maybe. Not just because he thought he’d been caught- which hadn’t happened in _ever_ \- there was something in the stare itself that unnerved him. His soul _tingled_ and it felt so _strange_. Were souls supposed to react like that? They never came with manuals, Kuroo didn’t know.

Hunching in a corner of the store and pretending to look at the tall stacks of identical cups of instant noodles, Kuroo deftly unlatched his window, taking out his soul and inspecting it.

The soul shone with a dark gold almost hazel light, the same shade as his eyes, with brown specks near the centre. It looked like it always did to Kuroo, though it buzzed slightly in his touch. He can’t remember if that’s happened before.

Beginning to feel cold, Kuroo moved to put his soul back. But before he could someone bumped into him from behind. He turned around, becoming face to face with the stranger from earlier.

With a startled shriek Kuroo stumbled back, losing his balance and falling right into the stack of cup noodles. The stranger reached forward on instinct, and Kuroo reached back. But he was too heavy, and he ended up pulling the stranger down with him. They landed in a tangled heap, half buried in cup noodles. For a few seconds neither of them moved, waiting for the dust and the cup noodles to settle.

Kuroo had his eyes closed shut. Slowly, he felt for his surroundings. His soul was still in his hand, cradled to his chest. His window had closed, and he moved his other hand in an attempt to open it again. But his fingers had barely moved when he heard soft beeping noises. His hand had been flat against the stranger’s calculator lock, fingers pressing an array of random keys.

The thief blinked his eyes open, staring at his hand as if it had suddenly turned against him.

“Uhm.”

The thief’s gaze flickered upward. This close, he could see the brown flecks in the gold irises of the stranger’s eyes. He could see the sludgy mix of fear, mistrust, panic. He could see the soft twinkle of curiosity.

With another exclamation Kuroo removed his hand, causing them to sink further into the sea of cup noodles. Another moment of waiting, in case they get buried alive. In the following silence, something beeped softly. Kuroo wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t so close.

The stranger scrambled up, the panic drowning out everything else. His window swung open with the movement, and Kuroo found himself cradling two souls in his lap, along with five or so cup noodles. Before he could move an inch the stranger was snatching up a soul, snapping his window shut and running out of the store.

Kuroo placed his soul back into his own window on reflex, the latch clicking automatically. He stood up from the wreckage, allowing a store employee to help him. He smiled, charming, but that was as far as he got. He tried to speak, but he realized with a start that he wasn’t sure what to say.

His chest felt weird, tight, and he had the urge to leave as soon as possible.

A crowd was beginning to gather, and Kuroo offered an apologetic smile before slipping away, making sure the three souls he had stolen were still in his pocket.

The air outside the store was so much lighter than the tense, thick one inside, but it wasn’t enough. There were still just a bit too many people, it made Kuroo antsy. He felt he needed a distraction. He found himself fiddling with his coat buttons.

The thief decided to call it a night, going home through back alleys and empty lots. It took him longer than usual, to find his modest little apartment a block away from a town square. He kept making wrong turns almost absentmindedly, and he had to pay more attention than he’d ever had getting home.

Kuroo sat at his little work table, working the souls he collected into little glass containers with irregular shapes. Placing them in the containers wasn’t any hard, but welding it shut without leaving any blemishes was the hard part. It required precision, and any wrong movement can damage the soul themselves.

His heart wasn’t in the task. He felt tired and high strung, his soul sitting uncomfortably within himself. He tried to ignore it.

Kuroo only managed to glass one soul before the feeling of restlessness overtook him. He stared at the two souls still naked on his desk.

One was a cool forest green colour, with browns and blues swirling near its core. He got that from a trash heap, actually. He didn’t know why anyone would throw away a perfectly good soul, but he wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

The other was dark green, mixed with inky black and making Kuroo feel irritable. He stole it from an asshole he’d bumped into the other day. The guy didn’t seem to be using it, and Kuroo had no qualms stealing it.

The soul he’d already glassed was from a lady, pretty blues and golds twisting in intricate, delicate patterns. As a crystal it invoked images of sunken treasures glinting underwater. Kuroo rather liked it, he supposed.

Sighing, Kuroo stood up and stretched, glancing at the digital clock on his desk. It read just after midnight, and Kuroo figured he might as well take a walk. He was seriously craving some apple pie.

\---

The Weekend Market was a fairly innocent name for the free-for-all trade that happened every Fridays to Sundays in Town Squares. During this time people were allowed to set up stalls and sell things that toed the line between legal and illegal. Shady people and suspicious items become readily available, to any kind of person. Identity didn’t matter, as long as there was something to sell or something to buy. More often than not, barter happened as well.

Kuroo was a seasoned veteran of these markets, though lately he’d been going home earlier and earlier. Like mentioned before, souls were harder to obtain. Kuroo’s simple little stall that sold ‘Special Jewellery’ was by no means popular, but he was definitely not getting much attention these days.

Kuroo sighed, absolutely bored with watching people pass by. He wished he’d brought something to pass the time, like a book or a game or something. Instead he sat there, resisting the urge to fiddle with the three pieces of jewellery he had laid out in front of him. He had fashioned the blue and gold one into a necklace, while the other two he’d made into a bracelet and an earring. He was pretty proud of their designs, as he’d always been with all his work.

The first person to stop by his shop was someone Kuroo knew pretty well.

Terushima Yuuji was, after all, a frequent presence in the Weekend Market. He was known for bartering the strangest but luckiest things only once every couple of Markets. Whoever he chose to buy from often gained the most profit for that weekend. He was like a walking lucky charm. Kuroo had chatted with him on occasion, though Terushima never bought from him. That day he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Hey! Teru! What’s up?” Kuroo called, waving cheerfully when he saw the man. The blond grinned and waved back, jogging closer to Kuroo’s booth excitedly.

“Just the man I wanted to see!” Terushima said by way of greeting, glancing at the three items on Kuroo’s desk, “business getting slow?”

“Kind of,” Kuroo gave a wince but kept up his grin, “want to help me change the tides?”

“Kind of,” Terushima shot back with a laugh. There was some tension in his shoulders though, and he rubbed at his window absentmindedly. Unlike almost everyone, Terushima’s window had no locks whatsoever, and it was a simple single golden framed glass square, showing off his shining golden brown soul proudly.

“What do you need?” Kuroo asked, grin giving way to something friendlier. He only had a very small list of people he’d never steal from, and Terushima was in it.

“Well, see I’ve got this thing,” Terushima reached into his jacket pocket and took out a card. It was one of those brightly coloured cards used in arcades for the newer games, in lieu of coins.

“A friend gave it to me, but I feel like it really shouldn’t be mine,” the blond explained, smiling sheepishly, “I thought you might be interested in it, though.”

“Me specifically?” Kuroo asked, perplexed. The last time he’d been to an arcade was with Bokuto and Terushima, yes, but it was mostly at Bokuto’s insistence.

“I dunno,” Terushima shrugged, tossing the card on the table so he could take out two crumpled bills from his wallet, “my friend said it’s still got like, two hundred coins worth in it. I’ll give ya two hundred more if you can get it off my plate.”

“You make a hard case but alright,” Kuroo laughed, unsure even as he accepted, “sure you don’t want anything in return? I don’t have much but you can pick one if you want.”

He expected Terushima to decline, not one to wear jewellery that wasn’t a metal piercing. But he stared down at the table, considering each and every piece carefully. Finally he picked up the single earring, the one with the dark green and black soul as its centrepiece. The crystal hung from three small obsidian pearls, the shape of a cobra hanging upside down.

He grinned at Kuroo, “hope you don’t mind if I take this.”

“Of course not, I offered,” Kuroo shook his head, internally relieved to be rid of the soul that made him feel off. “I can even help you put it on.”

“Dude, that’d be great,” Terushima quickly leaned forward so Kuroo could take off one of his earrings on his left ear and put the new one in. It didn’t stand out _too much_ , but it suited him somehow.

“Looking good,” Kuroo gave him a thumbs up as he sat back down.

"Thanks, man," Terushima fiddled with the crystal, angling his head as if wanting to take a look at it.

"Will you stick around for long?" Kuroo asked, knowing his friend's wandering ways.

"Nah, I just got some business here and then I'm headed to the next town," Terushima answered as expected, giving Kuroo a wave as he turned to leave, "see ya around!"

"You too!" Kuroo waved back.

The thief pocketed the card and the money, deciding he was off to a good start.

\---

His second costumer was a troubled looking young man, gazing here and there distractedly. He had a pretty face, if Kuroo were to admit, though his brown hair seemed to be unkempt. Out of habit, Kuroo’s gaze flickered down to his window, gold frame gilded with silver fixtures, his lock an intricate circular gear made of gold and silver as well. But through the glass Kuroo could see no light, no hazel glow that should’ve come from his soul. Kuroo did a double take. The man did not have a soul to call his own.

The thief was sure he’d never seen him before, though. Perhaps some other thief had gotten to him, or perhaps he’d lost his soul in some other unfortunate way. Either way, Kuroo could see opportunity knocking.

“You there, sir,” he called out, smiling in that charming way he knew always worked, “you look like you could use some help?”

The man glanced at him, eyebrow raised, but when he saw the jewellery on the table he tensed. With a brisk pace he approached Kuroo’s booth, staring down the two pieces of jewellery on the table.

No, he stared at one in particular, the bracelet with the green and brown and blue soul in it. Kuroo had fixed the glassed soul amongst a ring of interwoven metal and emerald rocks. It was a delicate piece, a design Kuroo had thought of while passing by a river.

“Do you like it?” Kuroo asked, letting pride bleed into his voice, “I made them myself. Each one guaranteed safe and clean. You can give it as a gift, for a girl, perhaps?”

“How much?” the man asked, focus still on the bracelet. His fingers twitched but he kept his hands at his sides.

“Not much,” Kuroo hummed, smirking, “three hundred, unless you’re willing to pay more for it.”

“Ooh, cheeky,” the man grinned, but it was something short of feral, “I’ll give you four hundred for it. _And_ I won’t report you for theft.”

“You’re not buying stolen goods,” Kuroo grinned back to hide his discomfort, waving a hand, “would you like a receipt?”

“No,” the man took out his wallet, dropping four neatly folded bills on the table. He quickly snatched the bracelet and slipped it on. He looked the bracelet over carefully, then gave Kuroo a dazzling smile. It made Kuroo almost as uneasy as the feral grin did.

“Very nice workmanship,” the man praised, before ripping off the crystal and throwing it at the ground.

Kuroo’s eyes widened, unable to make a sound as the crystal smashed into pieces, the soul freed from its confines. Very carefully the man picked up the soul with one hand, the other working to unlock his window. He placed the soul inside and locked his window again, relief flooding his features.

This time, when he turned to look at Kuroo, his smile was much more genuine.

“Thank you for finding it. If that’s what happened,” he said, holding his right arm up, “the bracelet’s beautiful.”

“Uh, thanks?” Kuroo managed to stutter out, worry still etched into his brows.

The man nodded and left. Kuroo could’ve sworn the soul glowed brighter inside the man’s window than it ever did in his presence.

Kuroo was craving apple pie again.

His soul _itched_. He rubbed at his window absentmindedly, before catching himself. He drummed his fingers on the table, staring back at the people who were still staring curiously at him and his booth. The man had caused quite the commotion, but nothing that would disrupt the market in its entirety. And now Kuroo only had one more soul to sell.

Minutes passed. Hours. Kuroo’s chest tightened every time one too many people stared. He thought of calling out for customers, but thought better of it. He just wanted to go home and sleep. Except he was too restless for sleep. He felt like bouncing his leg, except his leg won’t bounce. The first day of the weekend market drew to a close.

Kuroo packed up, greeted the arriving night sellers with a nod, and walked away, the necklace unsold and in his pocket. Kuroo passed by the same shopping district from before, thinking of how there was a bakery there and that they might have apple pie.

As Kuroo walked, he thought about the stranger he’d bumped into. What was he doing now? Why did Kuroo care?

He passed by the arcade, and doubled back. He wasn’t one to frequent arcades, not alone at least, but he had a card so he figured why not.

\---

An hour later Kuroo left the arcade, feeling a strange tingling in his soul again. He thought he saw the same stranger in the arcade but he couldn’t be sure. He thought he might be hallucinating.

The night was still young, and Kuroo decided to use his back-up plan for the times he didn’t get enough souls on the weekdays. He wasn’t one to steal while the market was in progress, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

It was time for plan B. The ‘B’ stood for ‘Bar’.

There was more than a handful of seedy bars in town, and Kuroo wasn’t a very accepted figure in half of them. It was easy to steal souls there, but it was also easy to get caught. And the investigation afterwards always put Kuroo in danger of getting discovered. Bars were easy but they weren’t usually worth the risk.

Kuroo made his way to the nearest one, called Maiz Hall like some attempt at being unique. The inside was just as ridiculous, the design made by a ten year old with an unhealthy obsession with boobs and corn and contemporary art. Despite it being pretty early the bar had a sizeable crowd, though. Perhaps the drinks were good.

Kuroo had only spent about five minutes in the bar before he felt uncomfortable.

The music was too loud. The crowds too close. He sat at the bar, intending to survey the crowd for the most vulnerable targets, but all he could see were people touching each other in some way or another. He couldn’t help feeling _squicky_ at the thought of joining them. He tried to order some alcohol to calm himself down, but he couldn’t even find one he thought he might like. Finally all he could think of was leaving the place.

So he did.

Kuroo walked back home troubled. His chest still felt tight, and his thoughts scrambled. He tried to focus on his breathing, on getting home. He just needed to be away from people, to be safe in his bed at home, alone. He’d think about why this was happening later, when he didn’t feel like scratching his eyes out.

As soon as he got to his apartment Kuroo shed everything, the things in his pockets piling up on the nightstand and his clothing tossed somewhere in the corner of his bedroom. He slipped into his comfiest clothes and climbed under the covers, bringing extra blankets and pillows with him.

He fell asleep wishing he’d just bought that apple pie.

\---

Kuroo skipped the Saturday of the Weekend Market. Sundays were the busiest days anyway, and he’d already sold most of his wares. He deemed it okay to just stay home. He ate breakfast sluggishly, not really getting up from bed until it was close to noon. At his modest dining table he picked at his eggs while fiddling with his phone. He’d downloaded a new game on a whim, trying to relax and distract himself.

Kuroo had been trying to forget the previous night’s events, thinking it was just an off night for him. But the tightness in his chest never quite left. With a frustrated sigh Kuroo put his phone down to open his window. He had trouble remembering his passcode, as if he needed any more things to bother him. He opened it mostly by muscle memory, and he brought out his soul for inspection.

Only it wasn’t his soul.

It was gold and brown, for sure. But it was a couple shades lighter, the shine not as bright as it could’ve been. It pulsed softly, and Kuroo knew enough about his soul and souls in general to be sure it wasn’t his. Which meant it was the stranger’s soul.

 _That_ meant the stranger had his soul instead.

Kuroo very nearly screamed at the realization. But he managed to keep it to a world weary sigh, and with a grunt he put the soul back in his window. No wonder it felt so strange. He wished he had known sooner.

It was fine, though. Kuroo can get his soul back. All he had to do was track down the stranger he knew nothing about and ask if he could get it back. No big deal. He could feel a soft twinge in his chest, as if the soul within him was protesting his thoughts.

“If you say so,” Kuroo chuckled. He glanced down at his phone and his unfinished breakfast. He picked up the phone, shovelling a forkful of eggs into his mouth as he dialled a number. It was a few moments before someone answered.

“Yo, Bokuto! You remember that arcade right? The one with too many karaoke booths? I was wondering…”

\---

Kuroo’s plan was simple. Go to the stranger’s usual haunts and see if he could spot him there. He had a feeling the arcade where he first spotted the stranger was one of them, and having the stranger’s soul helped. It was like knowing things he didn’t know before, but only by heart. It was like discovering a new person in himself.

First off, Kuroo discovered that the apple pie craving wasn’t exactly _his_. But the soul in him _sang_ whenever he ate a slice. And he liked making the soul sing. He didn’t mind buying an entire box of the stuff at all.

Second, his new friend (for he couldn’t think of the soul as anything but) was not very good with loud or easily excitable people.

“Hey hey hey!!” Bokuto greeted, swinging an arm around Kuroo’s shoulders. Kuroo grinned back in greeting.

Bokuto Koutaro was a lively fellow, his countenance as bright as his pure gold soul, shining through his glass window, framed with interweaving metal and gold. He had been friends with Kuroo for years, despite the former being a law enforcer. He was a detective, with a very shrewd partner, though he’d never handled any cases of stolen souls. He didn’t know anything about Kuroo’s job, and he never asked. Kuroo was very grateful for that.

“It’s been a while,” he said, ignoring the twinge inside of him.

“I don’t think we’ve ever hung out in the weekends,” Bokuto continued, oblivious to his friend’s slow inching from him. Not to get away or anything, but to just keep a little bit of distance from them. It help stop the uneasy twitching the soul in Kuroo’s window was doing.

“Of course we have,” Kuroo waved his hand vaguely, “I’ve just been busy lately.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Bokuto was undeterred, “What made you want to go to the arcade all of a sudden?”

“Terushima gave me a card,” Kuroo explained, digging into his pockets for said card, “I figured we might as well use it.” He decided not to mention the accidental soul exchange just yet.

He held up the card and Bokuto snatched it, uttering a sound of delight. The two friends arrived at said arcade a short time later. It was like being kids again, playing game after game with abandon. At least, in Bokuto’s part. Kuroo himself was only paying half attention, determined to spot the stranger if he was there.

He would’ve gone alone, really, but the thought of being in a crowded noisy place with nobody with him made Kuroo uncomfortable. Well, it made his borrowed soul uncomfortable, and by extension him as well. It had been too long since he and Bokuto hung out, anyway.

Unfortunately they didn’t spot the stranger that day, but Kuroo wasn’t about to give up. He bid Bokuto farewell, a box of apple pie in his arms as he contemplated his next move. He walked absentmindedly.

It wasn’t until he was already there that he realized where his feet (or his temporary soul) had taken him.

It was a videogame store, nothing special, except maybe for the fact that he’d never really been there before. He entered the sizeable corner store, immediately greeted with shelves upon shelves of games and gadgets and consoles. There were labels on each shelf, printed out in neat digital font that reminded Kuroo of old sci-fi movies.

Further into the shop was the counter, where a young man with freckles and a nervous smile on his face waved at him hesitantly.

“Welcome!” He called out and though his voice was meek it carried over across the mostly empty shop. A teenager with a bad case of sleep deprivation and The SlouchTM was staring down a rack of otome games in a corner.

Kuroo made his way closer to the counter, getting a better look at the freckled guy while he was at it. His nametag read ‘Yamaguchi’ with both ‘a’s written to resemble stars. He looked like a college kid, messy hair and tired eyes. But he tried his best to look friendly and helpful, and Kuroo hoped his own smile mirrored the first half of the sentiment.

His gaze flickered momentarily to the kid’s window, frame painted blue with white stars doodled on the glass. Behind it shone a green-grey soul, light soft and steady. What piqued Kuroo’s interest was his lock, the type that had a good old fashioned keyhole, and thus needed an actual physical key. It was true those locks were harder to get open, but it was also that much easier to lose the key, or give it to the wrong person.

“Hey,” Kuroo greeted, decidedly not looking at the window for more than a few seconds. With a lock like that, he probably already got more attention than he preferred.

“Hello, sir!” Yamaguchi greeted back, enthusiasm cut short by a yawn just a second after he spoke. He tried in vain to cover it, reddened ears stubbornly ignored. “How may I help you?”

“Ah, you see I wanted to get a gift for a friend,” Kuroo began, pretending Yamaguchi hadn’t stifled another yawn as he was speaking, “but I have no idea what he likes. I know he goes here often, though. I thought you could help me with it.” The soul in him hummed, proud of their good work. Kuroo hardly considered talking to strangers any hard, even though his new soul apparently did.

“Who’s your friend?” Yamaguchi asked, eager to help, “if he’s a regular I might recognize him.”

Kuroo resisted the urge to fidget, his soul churning at his unpreparedness.

“Well,” he started, words halting, “I, uh, I’m not sure if you’ll recognize the name but- about yay high, dyed blond? Probably wears big hoodies a lot?”

Yamaguchi’s nose scrunched in suspicion, before realization lit up his face.

“Are you friends with Kenma?” he asked, “he goes here a lot. We don’t talk much but I know what he usually buys.”

“Yes, yeah, Kenma,” the moment Kuroo said the name, the soul in him _thrummed_ in recognition. He didn’t bother hiding his relief. He found out the stranger’s name at least.

“You’re in luck, there _are_ a few games I know for a fact he’s been looking forward to getting,” Yamaguchi stood up from his seat behind the counter, ducking down instead. Kuroo waited patiently, humming a tune his soul knew more than he did.

“Here,” Yamaguchi popped back up with a couple of cases in hand, different games meant to be played with a handheld. Kuroo looked over them each while Yamaguchi talked, all traces of sleep gone in the face of his enthusiasm.

“These came in just yesterday, and I was going to surprise him,” Yamaguchi explained, “but if his birthday’s close then you should definitely give one of these as a gift. I’ll just tell him we still don’t have it in stock so he won’t have two copies of the same game.”

“Thank you. You’re a big help,” Kuroo said, smiling at the kid again in what he hoped was a nice enough grin. He looked back down at the games, not sure at all which one to pick. His friend in him didn’t seem to be of any help, completely content with whichever Kuroo tried to pick up.

It took Kuroo thirty silent, awkward minutes to pick. At some point, the teenager had come to the counter to buy one of the otome games, and Yamaguchi left Kuroo to decide by himself. Ten minutes later Kuroo was still staring at the four cases in front of him, and two more customers had come into the store. It didn’t seem like Yamaguchi knew either of them, since he only gave them the standard ‘Welcome!’ he’d given Kuroo earlier before. Neither customer seemed to notice, going towards one labelled shelf or another instead. Finally Kuroo decided ‘fuck it’ and picked at random, feeling the awkwardness overtake even him.

“Alright, want me to wrap this up for you?” Yamaguchi asked, appearing as if the awkwardness didn’t affect him at all. Kuroo nodded gratefully, unable to breathe easily just yet.

“Here you go,” Yamaguchi handed him the package, accepting the money Kuroo gave him in turn.

“Thanks,” Kuroo managed to croak out, smile weak.

He was a block away from the store before his soul unclenched, dispelling the tightness in his chest that had grown during the ordeal. Kuroo bit back a weary sigh. He was not at all used to these feelings.

Deciding to end his search for the day Kuroo fastened his pace, intent on getting home. He rounded a corner, distracted, and collided into someone. They both went sprawling, Kuroo more out of surprise than anything. His first instinct was to check if the pie had been damaged, and the game he’d just bought. Only then did he think to check on the other guy.

He looked up, and was met with the same golden gaze he’d been searching for this whole time. He couldn’t help the smile stretching his lips.

“It’s you,” he breathed out, relief and awe and other emotions apparent in just those two words.

“It’s you,” the stranger- _Kenma_ repeated, quieter and more subdued. He didn’t have a smile on his face like Kuroo did, but his shoulders relaxed visibly.

The two of them stood up, brushing themselves off. They stared at each other, silence engulfing them.

“We should probably… talk,” Kenma said, glancing between Kuroo, his soul, and the items he carried.

Kuroo nodded, not trusting himself to speak though he had no idea why. Really, he should just ask for his soul back and be done with it. But when Kenma started walking, saying something about his house being close by, Kuroo just silently followed.

\---

The two of them sat in Kenma’s living room. Kuroo was curled up in an armchair while Kenma sat on the couch. A small black cat, almost just a kitten, lay curled up in Kenma’s lap. The box of apple pie laid open on the coffee table, slices taken from it and put in plain white plates. Kuroo ate in small, slow bites. Kenma poked his slice with his fork, taking only a single bite. There were also mugs of tea on the table, still warm. Neither one of them spoke.

“My name’s Kozume Kenma,” he was the first to break the silence, looking up at Kuroo as if waiting for his reaction. Or, Kuroo realized, his own introduction.

“I’m Kuroo. Uh- Tetsurou,” Kuroo replied, soul _thrumming_ as if laughing at him. He exchanged his pie for the mug of warm tea. Kenma let him drink for a while before he spoke again.

“So… we’ve exchanged souls,” he began, fidgeting. Kuroo stared, almost fascinated. There was his soul, right there in Kenma’s window. He could almost feel it call out to him.

“We did,” he said, when he realized Kenma wasn’t talking anymore. He gave a weak smile, “it’s been interesting, having your soul.”

“Same,” Kenma almost smiled back, expression somewhat fond. He looked down at the cat in his lap as he spoke, “it’s apparent we’ve got very different souls. Even though they look alike.”

“The colours are just because of the eyes anyway,” Kuroo felt the need to point out. Kenma gave him a look that told him he was not impressed. Kuroo shrugged.

“You wouldn’t believe the weird things I did while having your soul,” Kenma said, hint of a smile again. And then he was laughing, and Kuroo wondered if he could manage the rest of his life without thinking about hearing it again.

“Care to share your stories?” Kuroo asked, daring to give a playful grin. Kenma’s eyes narrowed slightly at his expression, but he nodded, smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s actually when I got Maken that I realized something was off…”

\---

They talked until early morning, the tea all gone, the pie half eaten. Eventually they’d both opened their windows, sitting side by side and just holding their souls in their hands. Their words became hushed whispers, said over the soft glow of their souls’ combined light.

Morning came, bringing silence with it. The two of them stared down at their souls, unsure. What to do, now that they’ve found each other? Why did it feel like they’re about to say goodbye instead?

“It’s better if we…” Kenma didn’t finish, couldn’t. With slightly shaking hands he took Kuroo’s soul and opened Kuroo’s window. It felt intimate, almost lewd. Kuroo could feel his face flush, his heart beating at a quick pace. Kenma closed Kuroo’s window, Kuroo’s soul back where it belonged.

Now it was Kuroo’s turn. Kenma averted his gaze, all previous bravado gone. Kuroo felt almost like a pervert, even though he’d touched a thousand windows, stolen countless souls. Something about putting back the soul he’d taken- even by mistake- took his breath away. He didn’t think he could ever go back to stealing them, if it felt like this.

With Kenma’s window beeping shut came the silence again, enveloping them.

Kuroo felt like he was finally at home. His soul was his own again yes, but that wasn’t all. This place, this person his soul had been with, also felt like home.

“I’m going to make breakfast,” he decided, smiling over at Kenma.

Kenma, curled up in his seat with his face buried in his cat’s fur, mumbled a reply. Kuroo took that as an agreement and headed to the kitchen.

When he came back, Kenma was taking small bites of a slice of pie, and looking over the game he’d bought.

“I forgot about that,” Kuroo gave a soft laugh, walking over with plates of eggs and bacon in his hands, “I got that from that kid at the game store. While I was looking for you, I kinda pretended it was your birthday soon. Happy birthday, I guess?”

“My birthday’s two months away,” Kenma pointed out, still inspecting the game in his hand. He looked up at Kuroo with an almost smile that Kuroo was becoming all too fond of, “Thanks.”

Their morning was spent eating eggs and bacon, and some of the pie still. Kuroo thought it proper to tell his story this time, all of it that he could, keeping his voice soft. Eventually Kenma began looking a little too tired.

“I… should probably go back now,” Kuroo said, not getting up from his seat, “there’s still the Sunday market… and I still have this necklace I gotta get rid of. Oh, but I should help clean up here first-”

“Kuro,” Kenma frowned at him, a tired scrunch of his face that had Kuroo’s heart doing something close to melting. Over such a short time, even for just his soul, he’d already grown so fond of him, this ‘stranger’.

“…yeah?” Kuroo said, eyebrows raised.

Kenma sat up, uncurling and laying his cat aside. With a soft mew Maken climbed off the couch and scampered off to the kitchen.

“I’m really sleepy,” he began, fidgeting again, “so I’m not sure if I’m making sense. But… the pie was nice, and the game’s pretty cool. So you can stay.”

Kuroo couldn’t help the grin stretching his lips. He couldn’t help his soul throbbing, and he nodded a little too fast, a lingering sting in his neck.

“You go on to the bedroom then,” he said, with barely subdued enthusiasm, “I’ll clean up here and then. Then I’ll stay.”

Kenma nodded back, hiding a small smile of his own. He stood up, shuffling over to the bedroom with a yawn. He paused by the door, half turning.

Kuroo, who had begun picking up empty plates and spoons and cups in earnest, stilled and stared.

“Hurry up, or Maken won’t leave you space on the bed,” Kenma told him, swiftly turning back around and disappearing into the bedroom.

Kuroo’s enthusiasm doubled, nearly dropping a plate in his haste.

\---

It was three days later.

Somewhere out there, a lonely lady got a call from the police, saying they think they’ve found her missing soul. Somebody had left a package with the soul in it, as well as a beautiful necklace, right in front of the station. The police officer who told her all about it was very clumsy but very nice. She thought she was a kind of charming she could be comfortable with.

Somewhere, in another city, a young man had just run into a couple of thugs with too many souls in their cracked windows. Someone with no soul was about to save him.

A few days later, a man with someone else’s soul and a grand plan will find someone to help him. Whether it was to help his plan or to help his own self remains to be seen.

Somewhere in someone’s home, they’re coming home to their partner, their soulmate, someone they wouldn’t mind exchanging souls with if it were to happen.

Right there in Kenma’s apartment, Kuroo sat in the living room, pad and pencil in hand. He was doodling ideas for jewellery, this time not relying on souls to brighten them up. Kenma sat curled up by his side, playing a game in his handheld, but occasionally glancing at Kuroo’s work. The two of them were content with what they had.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think? :D


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